Chapter 8 - Fallon

My head pounded and sharp pain traveled through my leg with every step, even though I put as little weight as possible on it. The constricting bind around my chest didn’t make breathing any easier. Flynn was in no better shape. Arm in arm, we stumbled past dead trees and cracked rocks. We needed to move quickly but could barely manage to drag ourselves along.

It took us an hour to make it out of sight of the cave. Soon after, Flynn kneeled over in the dirt. I stumbled to my knees beside him, just in time for him to vomit. I laid my hand on his back as he gasped for air. The sour smell permeated the air but I couldn’t bring myself to move away. I grimaced and clenched my teeth as I dragged my leg out straight to prevent applying more pressure than absolutely necessary.

Flynn wiped his mouth with his sleeve. A dark bruise stretched across his neck. “We’re not going to make it.”

“We made it out of there. We have to make it back.” I had too many plans for this to be the end.

“How?”

“Can’t you make a water dragon to ride?” I asked.

Flynn laughed, a croaky sound that stopped as soon as it started. “I can’t make water, Fallon. Why do you think I was so useless back there?”

My shoulders fell. “Oh. What if…” I trailed off, an idea slowly worming its way into my aching head. “How much water would you need?”

“Even if we had enough, I’m not sure I could make it work. My head hurts too much.”

I could work with that. I had to make it work. The demon could escape the cave and we needed to be far away when that happened.

“I’ll get you the water. I’ll fix your head. But you have to swear you’ll get me out of here.” If I could do it, I’d be in no condition to get myself out. I pressed my hand to my pocket where the chunk of potential demonite resided. I’d pass this test, even if it killed me.

“If you can do all that, I’ll marry you,” he croaked with a thin smile. I glared. “Fine, fine. I swear it by all the angels.”

I nodded, took a deep breath, and pressed my fingers to his temple. I closed my eyes as I urged the mana to mend his mind and broken bits. It wove slowly through him, like a caress.

When I opened my eyes, he stared at me. His eyes were wide but clear. His throat was still bruised, but the broken blood vessels in his eyes were repaired. “Don’t you think…” he trailed off as I waved a hand at him.

I wasn't done yet. My mana was depleted, but I knew how to push it. I clutched my dagger and let the last of its mana trickle into me.

I sheathed the dagger and dug my fingers into the soft soil. This was my element. I closed my eyes and sunk my mana into the ground. I sent it deep, searching. It wormed down through the earth, past broken roots and bones. Finally, finally, the dirt became muddy. Liquid awaiting a purpose, now that all the plants were dead.

I gritted my teeth. “Be ready.”

Flynn crouched beside me, palms open. I clenched my hands into fists and pulled upward so fast a spray of dirt came with them.

I opened my eyes to a geyser of dirt rocketing above my head. I swung my arms so it crashed down several feet away. A hole sunk deep into the earth before me. It was not very wide and would collapse if I stopped using my mana to hold it open. I swayed.

Flynn dove forward sticking his hands into the hole. He couldn’t reach the water but could brush a finger against the mud and that was enough.

He pulled himself out of the hole and water followed in a gush. It rose into the air, a small blob growing as more water flowed from the hole. Slowly, it bulged and ripped until it formed a small steed. Its head was that of a dragon but its body was short and stalky like a horse. It landed on the ground.

I lost my grip on the mana in the earth. I fell forward into the dirt, beneath the water beast’s head. The last thing I heard was Flynn calling my name.

*****

I woke with a shiver. My stomach and chest were freezing. My arms and legs were wet. My cheek lay across someone’s arm, surprisingly warm.

I tried to jolt up but it was more like a flail. My pain returned with the movement and I wobbled, my head light and dizzy. Flynn wrapped an arm over my back and barely kept me from a fall. Though, it would not have been much of a fall. The water beast was only four feet off the ground. Flynn’s legs curled to keep from dragging along the ground. His creation was more pony than dragon. I laid on my stomach across its back, like a sack of potatoes. Flynn’s thighs pressed against me from behind.

I glanced up to find Flynn staring down at me. His eyes flickered over my face. They were pretty eyes. Until now I hadn’t noticed the way the soft brown was spotted with twinkles of yellow, like golden stars. His skin was an even softer brown, smooth, and without freckles. My own face had a plethora of freckles I’d never liked.

It took me a moment to realize he was speaking. “-not much further.” I nodded, though I didn’t really care about his words. They were just a jumble of sounds that didn’t quite make sense. I did care about the way Flynn’s eyes darted about. I followed his gaze but saw nothing. The sun was high in the sky but that only served to create plenty of dark shadows under dead, twisted trees. The forest. We must be close to the wall.

I tried to ask where we were but my tongue felt thick and my words came out tangled. I needed water. Flynn’s gaze flicked back to me. I coughed.

He dipped his hand into our steed’s neck and pulled a bubble of water out. It looked like a raindrop, but much larger. He held it to my mouth and I slurped it down greedily. We needed a steed but dying of thirst would do us no good either.

I sighed and fell back against the water creature. The ice bit at my cheek but I couldn’t keep my head up. Flynn tucked his forearm under my face. He was warm. My eyes drooped, despite how hard I tried to keep them open.

I didn’t want to sleep. I could hear what had Flynn so on edge. Creatures moved through the dead forest, crunching grass and snapping sticks underfoot. There was cackling with half shrieks in the distance. Only one kind of creature existed within these walls. The water creature moved faster.

I forced my eyes open to watch the shadows beneath the trees. Sometimes, I caught movement.

I glanced ahead, the end of the forest was in sight. So close to safety. A racket to our left, and a demon burst into sight. It was a mongrel, thank the angels, and a small one at that. But it still wouldn’t be easy. It launched itself at our steed and swiped at its legs with fingernails black as night and sharp as daggers. The demon snarled when its claws passed harmlessly through the water.

On the other side of our watery steed’s stomach, I saw it launch itself again, a new target in mind. Flynn swiped at it with my dagger and I curled my legs away. Unfortunately, our steed was so short it didn’t help much. Flynn sunk his blade deep into the demon’s head, but not before its claws slashed into my calf.

My shriek summoned the rest of the demons from their hiding. Half a dozen leered out from behind trees, all the size of children. One swung in branches above our heads. Flynn sunk his hands into his water creature and it burst into a gallop. The demons bolted after us.

The ice beneath my stomach was hard and would likely bruise with all the jostling, but my leg was worse. Warm blood dribbled down my leg and Flynn cursed when he glanced at it. I bit back sobs as each stride the water creature took sent waves of pain through me. We weren’t going to make it. We were going to be killed by a bunch of mongrel demons and my father… he’d be furious. It would be better to die than return a failure.

Flynn shot spikes of ice at the demons, but they dodged. Another drew close and slashed at him. He swung my dagger at the demon’s outstretched hand. Blood gushed from where the demon’s fingers had been moments ago.

No. We couldn’t die. I couldn’t let Zimara down.

I shouted, “Can you send a dragon after them?”

Flynn didn’t turn his gaze from the demons. “Not without losing our ride. It’s the only water around.”

I tried to sit up, to swing my leg over so I could assess what was going on and help. But I couldn’t push myself up. Flynn spent precious seconds helping me sit up.

At least I could see the demons on our tail clearly now. Not that I would be much help, with no weapon, too many injuries, and a severe lack of mana. Still, we’d come this far.

Flynn’s free arm rested around my waist as he swung the dagger at another demon to our left. A second lunged from our right and I kicked it. Toes of steel met oozing flesh. The demon squealed and stumbled.

My moment of victory latest a few seconds before another took its place. Shit. My father hadn’t raised me to be a very religious girl, but I begged every angel whose name I could remember to get us to the tower upon the wall. These demons wouldn’t stand a chance against the archers who used arrows aflame with angel fire. I kicked at the new demon, but it dodged and sunk its teeth into Flynn’s water creature. It came away with nothing but a soaked face.

Flynn shuddered behind me. A fresh wound bled on his arm, but he held a large branch in hand. He handed it over in time for me to swing it against the skull of the second demon. Its head flung back but it barely broke stride. A determined little beast.

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We burst from the forest and onto the grey prairie before the demon could strike again. My limbs went slack and I narrowed my eyes at the huge structure ahead. The tower. Only a couple of minutes away. I clutched the branch so the rough bark dug into my palms.

The demons, gifted with more space and a pressing deadline, fanned out around us. Five remained. I gritted my teeth as Flynn’s arm tightened around my waist even as he slumped against my back. His mana store had to be very low. He shouted for the archers right in my ear. I flinched. We were still too far for them to hear us. His shout acted as a signal for the demons. They attacked, five rotten bodies together.

Flynn swung his dagger but his movements were slow. I didn’t have time to worry after him. I swung the branch at demon after demon but it was never enough to stop them for more than a few seconds. Each swing twisted my body and filled me with pain. My arms grew heavy and I couldn’t swing fast enough. They drew closer, within range to attack.

They had learned from their brothers. None attacked our steed. One managed to hook its claws into my ankle. I screamed bloody murder at the pain. It almost yanked me off the water creature, but Flynn’s grip remained firm around me. I stabbed it in the face with the branch and it lost its hold.

Flynn trembled against my back, the effort of battle and magic demanding too much from his body. The wall was so close I could make out the flurry of movement from the archers stationed at the top. I screamed for them as I smacked away demons. We had to be close enough. An arrow flew through the air but landed thirty yards short. Not close enough then, but they saw us.

“We’re almost there,” I gasped to Flynn. He nodded against my back. Warm breath brushed my neck and I shivered. He was losing it, unable to continue fighting. I turned to the side he had been defending just as a demon leaped and struck its claws into my thigh. I howled and swung my branch but it was sloppy reaching across my body and barely made an impact. The demon climbed up me, like I was a cliff to sink it’s hooks into. I shoved at it but it latched on tight. Its claws dug in deep.

Another demon made its move but was met with an arrow through the skull. It tumbled through the dirt and rolled to a final stop, shrieking and writhing as flames consumed it. The other demons cried out and peeled off, back out of range of the arrows. The demon atop me did no such thing. It made a gurgling sound for its fallen companion and spittle spayed into my face. I tried to shove it off again, but this time it lunged over my arms and sunk sharp teeth into my neck. I wailed and flailed but couldn’t unseat the demon.

Flynn stirred at my back. He swung his arm in a movement that left the demon gaping. Blood pooled from its mouth. A dagger stuck through its neck. It fell, my dagger with it. I didn’t care about the weapon. The demon was off of me.

Blood poured from the bite in my neck. “No, no, no,” Flynn muttered as he pressed a shaky hand to my neck. I swayed in my seat, unable to hold on any longer. I tumbled from the water creature and Flynn came with me, arm still wrapped around my waist. We landed maybe ten feet from the gate, a tangle of bloodied and broken limbs.

The gate swung open and Clunaics swarmed out. “Don’t…” I tried to tell them not to remove my clothes. That I’d be fine after a nap. Don’t touch me, I tried to say. But dark spots clouded my vision and my brain couldn’t connect to my mouth. Flynn still rested against me.

All I could manage was to pat my pocket where the demonite rested. At least I would pass. But my pocket was empty. I tried to force my eyes open, but they were too heavy. Sleep called. I couldn’t fight it.

*****

I awoke to the face of an old man. He hunched over me, brow wrinkled in concentration as his hands rested on my ankle. A tingly sensation danced through my injuries. I tried to sit up but, frail as he appeared, he kept me down with his free hand on my stomach. Shit…

I was dressed in a medical gown. Someone had changed me, seen what lay under my clothes. My heart raced. If they knew… well, facing the demons was easier than facing that.

I jerked up again and the old man released me with a sigh. My leg twinged with pain but it was nothing compared to before. The healing barely registered, all I could think about was how I failed my mission. I clutched the gown in my fists and glanced from side to side. There had to be a way out of this.

“Calm down, child,” the old man said. He straightened with a grunt. “I’m the only one who knows your secret.”

My gaze stopped on him. He knew. If he was to be believed, he was the only one. But I couldn’t very well kill. I’ll admit, the thought did cross my mind. But only briefly. I forced myself to relax, releasing the gown from my death grip.

“How do others not know?” I asked. I tried to sound strong, but my voice wavered. I couldn’t meet his gaze. I hated he could hear my weakness. My eyes stung and I blinked quickly.

“Because I’m the best healer around and I sent them all away as soon as I noticed. That one boy, the other initiate, tried to visit a couple times once his mana was refilled, but I didn’t let him in either.”

“How long have I been out?”

He brought the billowed sleeves of his robe together, concealing his hands. “About a day. You were drained of mana and badly injured. I had to move slowly so as to not overwhelm your system, and even then it was touch and go for a while. You’re lucky you made it back when you did.”

I snorted. Lucky? That didn’t sound right. A day was a long time, and my demonite was missing. Stolen or lost, it didn’t matter by now. But perhaps I was getting ahead of myself.

“What will it take to keep your silence?” I asked.

“You already have my silence,” he said. I stared at him. Was he lying?

“Why?”

He chuckled, a sound that rasped with his age. “You think you’re the first woman to conceal her gender and become a Clunaic? I’ve treated more than you can imagine over the years.” He stood. “They have been some of the best warriors our kingdom has ever seen.”

I gaped at him and he smiled. “You best get dressed. The Monik is waiting.” He turned to go.

“Wait,” I called. “What’s your name?”

“Ewyn,” he replied. And with a swish of his robes, he left.

*****

Fresh clothes were left on the bedside table. Even my binder was concealed under a shirt. I never knew men like him existed. Men who saw the potential for women in the Clunaics. I was still wary, he could have been lying, but if I had to put my trust in someone, I supposed I could do worse.

After I dressed, a Clunaic I’d never met and who didn’t seem interested in introductions led me through the halls. I marveled at how little pain remained in my leg as I struggled to find the right words to ask what my fate would be. Had I failed or did the mid-level demon created an exception? But I couldn’t make my mouth form the words. One way or another, I would find out soon enough.

We stopped outside heavy doors and the Clunaic rapped on the door three times. I started forward when a voice echoed through the hall behind me.

“Fallon?” Flynn said my name with uncertainty. I spun on him, ready to fight if he’d stolen my demonite. But his bright smile startled me long enough for the doors to creak open. He stopped beside me and rested a hand on my shoulder. He stared into my eyes. “You’re alright?”

I blinked twice. “I think so.”

“Good. That damn healer kept saying you would be fine, but he wouldn’t let me see for myself. I’m glad you’re safe.” He continued past me into the room. I tilted my head but followed after him.

We stepped into a clean study, with red cushioned chairs on our side of an impressive desk, and a white cushioned chair on the other. The Monik sat, writing who knows what on a scroll. The Holy Knight, Arawn, stood beside him.

“Sit, sit.” The Monik gestured to the seats across from him. We did as we were bid, but I couldn’t draw my gaze from the angelite sword that swung at the Holy Knight’s side. It had to be endowed with holy fire, the only thing able to permanently end a demon’s life. Only the handle protruded from his sheath, but what a handle it was. Its shiny metal glistened in the low light from the lanterns and while the grip was simple, the pommel was beautiful. It had a gorgeous ruby in the shape of a bird pressed into the sides. A sword like that could have made a difference against the mid-level demon.

The Monik broke me from my thoughts. “Fallon. Your companion reported facing a mid-level demon while in the Dead Zone. As this is unheard of, I am hesitant to act of the word of one initiate. What do you have to say?”

I swallowed hard. I was speaking to my sister’s killer. “I concur with his report. There was a mid-level demon in a cave we found along the direct path to the demonite stone.”

The Monik leaned back in his chair. “But such powerful demons possess too much mana to escape through any of the Dead Zone tears.”

“I believe she evolved after coming through,” I said.

The Monik tapped his chin with his finger. “That’s what your companion mentioned. This is all highly irregular. I’ll send a Parish to explore the issue.” I waited for him to continue, but he just scribbled on his parchment, no mind for us.

“About the test,” I began.

The Monik looked up. “Oh, of course. You’ll be joining Arawn’s Parish.” He gestured to the Holy Knight at his side.

“I-I passed?” I hadn’t even considered this possibility once my demonite disappeared.

“Of course. You returned from the Dead Zone with demonite. You survived, if only barely. You met all the requirements.” The Monik pulled black rock from his draw.

I stared at the chunks of demonite. Two chunks. They were both half the size of the original piece I had. I glanced at Flynn, who looked rather pleased with himself. He split it. He didn’t condemn me to failure, he figured out a way for both of us to pass. I was so grateful I could hug him. Instead, I gave him a slight smile and nod. He winked.

“That will be all for now,” the Monik announced, returning the demonite to his drawer. I scrambled to my feet to follow the Holy Knight and Flynn out the door, but the Monik spoke again. “May I have a moment, Fallon?”

My heart spiked. Did he know my true purpose? I pressed my finger to my ring, ready to spill poison. But there was no drink in sight, and Clunaic guards stood outside the door. To attack now would mean death, something I’d like to avoid if at all possible.

“Yes, Monik?” I asked, head bowed.

“Are you truly alright? We nearly lost you,” he said.

It would be better for him if I died. “I’m quite alright, sir. Eager to begin work as a Clunaic.”

“It will be good to have another Ó Siadhail in the Clunaics. It’s been a long time since your father left our service.”

“The King had a better position for him. You can hardly fault him for going where he could best serve our kingdom.”

“Of course, of course. It is a shame he moved you children so far away. I would have liked to watch you grow up. Maybe I could have even met your sister.”

I clutched the arms of the chair with white fingers. “You met her.” You met her the week you murdered her.

“Oh, at your mother’s funeral, I suppose,” he agreed.

My blood boiled. “I was actually referring to ten years ago, when my father sent her to stay with you and learn the ways of formality to prepare for entering high society.” Probably a sore spot, as he stabbed the ten-year-old in the back during her stay.

The Monik frowned. “I’m afraid you were misinformed. I haven’t spoken to your father since he stole away the woman I vowed to marry.”

“What?” My fingers lost their grip.

“Oh, your father never mentioned that?” The Monik frowned and splayed a hand over his chest. “Yes, I was quite taken with your mother. She was beautiful, with the loveliest chestnut hair and eyes the color of honey. Unfortunately, I was too slow with my proposal and your father snatched her away.” To be honest, I don’t quite remember my mother. I was three when she died. But it sounds like my sister took her looks from her.

“So you haven’t spoken to my father in twenty-two years?” I asked. Impossible.

“I’m afraid not. Well, maybe at meetings for the King, but no direct conversation. I certainly didn’t take your sister in.” He poured himself a cup of wine. He had to be lying. “I was in the capitol, preparing the King for a foreign dignitary the week she died. Usually, that would have been your father’s job, but he was out.”

The Monik took a long drink. I felt the trigger of my ring but couldn’t press it. Not with all this new information. It changed everything.

Either the Monik was an excellent liar, or I had a whole lot of questions for my father.